


When The Moon Hits Your Eye Like A Big Pizza Pie That's Probably a Major Cause for Concern Oh God Do You Need Help?

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: And like, M/M, Not Beta Read, actual shit i apologize, but it sure works as an antidepressant lmao, happiness is a drug, i guess, idk what im doing, karkat is a mutant so in this au he doesnt rlly need the drug to be happy, weird au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-22 12:20:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4835120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a place like this, where to be happy at all you need to take a god damn drug, it's best for Dave to avoid any and all major social interactions.<br/>Too bad he's now part of the social elite and that shit's not going for him anymore.<br/>But hey, this troll has nice hips and he's not gonna complain about that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When The Moon Hits Your Eye Like A Big Pizza Pie That's Probably a Major Cause for Concern Oh God Do You Need Help?

The swing of the party kept everyone’s feet moving constantly, or at least, everyone who was dancing. There were a few awkward bystanders, either by the floor, an outsider looking in, or sitting at the tables. Others were comfortable with sitting out and chatting with others, but even they looked comfortable in the situation. Two figures cut and moved with the crowd, smiles reaching from ear to ear. They were separate, but both seemed so in tune with the music. Everything seemed upbeat and overly friendly, but too much sweet makes one sick, and this truly was all sugar coating.   
Everyone took happiness at this party it seems. Another figure, not entirely unlike the ones below, watched the first two figures spin around, melding with the people. He sighed, rubbing his eyes in an annoyed fashion as he leaned against the balcony that made up the second floor. His name was Dave and he felt so stupid. He supposed he should’ve done that too. And yet, with such a swinging party it was hard not to get into it. If only he didn’t have to take the drug to feel it. It wasn’t until one of the figures left the floor did he snap out of his reverie and move to one of the outer balconies. He closed the curtain behind him and looked out into the night.   
It was times like these he realized how terribly alone he felt constantly. The stars were beautiful, reflected in the clear bay water and they seemed to stare up at him with cold certainty. But that was ridiculous, stars don’t feel, and even if glowing masses of gas constantly turning hydrogen into helium to stay in existence could feel, they surely wouldn’t direct their gazes to something as insignificant as himself. Oh yeah, being part of the elite after hitting it big in the film industry was real nice, but it felt so insincere. No one cared about him, not even his brother, until he had money. And even then, they never gave two shits. When he talked about poverty when he was dirt poor, he was told to stop complaining, and now when he speaks of poverty, he’s told he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Sometimes you can’t win either way, he muses on thought as he finally takes a sip of the drink he’d been kindling since he entered this party.   
Suddenly he hears muffled shouting, and feels a definite mood shift. He turns slightly, glancing at the curtain through his shades. The shouting grows louder and someone bustles through the curtains with a middle finger out toward whomever was following. Well, they were obviously upset and in need of some alone time, which an upstanding citizen would readily give him.  
Too bad he was scum of the earth.   
He recognized this figure as the one who was dancing before, and they certainly had the hips for it. He noticed them giving him a couple side glances, and he could’ve smirked smugly. If he had taken happy today. Which he hadn’t. So he took one more sip of his drink, and turned his head slightly to give this wide hipped beauty a real look over.   
“Gonna take a wild guess here and say relationship issues.” he says, raising his eyes.   
They snort, and send him a look. He forces a cheeky grin, because he knows that’s what he would have done if he could, and takes another sip of his drink.  
“So am I right or am I right?” he asks, turning around fully and tilting his head slightly to the side. They roll their eyes, and he swears he can hear his heart jump up into his throat.   
“You’re right, but not in the way you’re thinking.” They reply, and he recognizes that voice. He would know that voice anywhere. He gives a low chuckle, raising his head.  
“Do my ears deceive me, or has the king of morning radio just walked onto my seclusion balcony?” He says, and they seem embarrassed at first, but are quick to reply with a witty retort.  
“And I’m to assume I just walked onto the shit stain on Hollywood’s track record’s introvert balcony?” They give a huff and lean against the railing next to him, and if he hadn’t been holding that drink so tight his hands would be shaking. Imagining the face was one thing, seeing the face and matching it up to the voice was another. And, to be honest, they looked more attractive than they sounded, all smooth grey and angry red and blinding white.  
It was a great night. 

That was the night they both met, and the next day and almost everyday after that, Dave found himself making music again, the notes filling the air with a fast tempo, but such soothing piano and chiptunes and whatever else he could find that reminded him of that night. The night he met what could’ve been someone he could actually bond with that wouldn’t put him off, that wouldn’t make him feel like he had to be something. It wasn’t even a full conversation, it was broken and useless and he didn’t know why it was bothering him so much.   
The soft melody over the aggressive bass was an interesting mesh of what they felt like. What the radio host who shouted at anyone and ranted and cried over crabs of all things FELT like. It was stupid, and he was stupid, but it was all he could do to get himself to focus on his next script and what needed to be done. He didn’t even catch the elusive anonymous host’s name before he fled the scene.   
God why did he have to be such an idiot? It wasn’t like the troll had even said anything especially sweet or anything. The two of them hadn’t even flirted. At least, he thought they didn’t. He didn’t really understand troll romance and tried to avoid the topic when he could. And here he was, making another song reminding him of the troll that he’d probably just throw out onto the internet for a charity drive or some shit later.   
Oh dear god he hoped he’d see that face again.

**Author's Note:**

> Might continue this if it gets popular enough.   
> Maybe.  
> I'm shit at remembering to do that tho lmao


End file.
